Am I a sea, or a sea monster, that you put a guard over me?
When I say, ‘My bed will comfort me.
My couch will ease my complaint,’ then you scare me with dreams and terrify me through visions, so that my soul chooses strangling, death rather than my bones.
I loathe my life.
I don’t want to live forever.
Leave me alone, for my days are but a breath.
What is man, that you should magnify him, that you should set your mind on him, that you should visit him every morning, and test him every moment?